


not to me. not if it's you.

by somethinglikeasunflower



Series: i'll take care of you [2]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, it's soft at the end tho like it's sad but they love each other so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27246289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethinglikeasunflower/pseuds/somethinglikeasunflower
Summary: He hardly processes Eliott scooping him into his arms, carrying him to bed and laying him beneath the blankets before climbing in himself and snuggling close. He’s deep underwater again, the whole world muffled, blurry. It’s unbearably dark. It’s only a matter of time before his eardrums burst and his chest caves in from the pressure.This is the reason the deep sea is left unexplored, he thinks. It’s better that way. Safer.––-or, on a bad day, lucas needs a little extra reminder that everything will be alright
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: i'll take care of you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989574
Comments: 22
Kudos: 96





	not to me. not if it's you.

**Author's Note:**

> similar to part one, tw for depression, weight loss/loss of appetite, and panic attacks.
> 
> I've basically just used Eliott as a vessel for delivering all of the encouraging mantras I try to tell myself when I'm feeling lost. I hope he can get through to any of you that might be struggling 🥺🥺 we've got this, everything will be ok 🥺💛
> 
> title from euripides again bc I just had to finish the quote 🥺

Lucas steps on the scale. 

This is his first mistake. 

Things had been better. He had slowly learned to live with his new appetite, starting to give himself more realistic portions of food for his current stomach, and he felt the emptiness shrink bit by bit every time he managed to finish his plate. He noticed his craving for dessert returning in flashes every now and then, and it felt like his biggest accomplishment yet. One day he even felt hungry enough to ask if Eliott wanted to go with him to McDonalds. It wasn’t much, but Eliott had smiled his brightest smile, kissed him hard, and held his hand for the whole walk, until his fingers interlaced with Lucas’ were replaced with a bright red happy meal carton. Things had been better. 

Now as Lucas stares at the floor, at the bright green display that mocks him with every pixel, he feels his airways close. What is he doing wrong? This can’t be happening. 

The number between his feet warps into nothing as tears begin to cloud his vision. _Things are better_. What a joke. He hasn’t been working past this, he’s been growing accustomed to it. He’s still right where he started. 

Eliott finds him curled up on the bathroom floor. His breath is shallow as he clings to his knees, his face small and the chasm in his mind growing infinitely larger, swallowing up more shreds of hope with every passing second. His soul is no longer consumed by an indescribable emptiness, but a brutal black hole. Not content with simply numbing his heart, it feels the need to rip away any life rafts that could possibly be used to float by, to survive. 

He barely registers Eliott rushing to his side, kneeling to wrap him in strong, loving arms. Barely hears the soothing encouragements Eliott whispers into his hair, barely feels the comforting circles his thumb traces over Lucas’ palm. The black hole has all but swallowed him up completely. He wouldn’t be surprised if it takes Eliott too. 

That thought is what does it. His heart sinks like a stone all the way down to his feet, keeps falling through the floor, all the way down to the earth’s molten center. Lucas feels the moment it disintegrates into nothing, the moment the emptiness accomplishes its goal, leaves the shell of his body – numb and permanently damaged – for Eliott to look after for the rest of his life. Lucas would sob if his heart hadn’t abandoned him, turned to dust. 

He hardly processes Eliott scooping him into his arms, carrying him to bed and laying him beneath the blankets before climbing in himself and snuggling close. He’s deep underwater again, the whole world muffled, blurry. It’s unbearably dark. It’s only a matter of time before his eardrums burst and his chest caves in from the pressure. 

This is the reason the deep sea is left unexplored, he thinks. It’s better that way. Safer. 

“I’m here,” Eliott’s soft voice cuts through the water, “I want you to know that, ok? I’m here to listen if you need to say anything at all. We don’t have to talk, but… just, I’m here, I’m always here.”

And it’s garbled by the oceans he floats helplessly through, but he hears it all the same. He can pretend he didn’t, pretend sleep has already taken him. That way he can keep Eliott at arm's length, protect him from the black hole. 

He won’t mind, he won’t ask, he won’t judge, Lucas knows he won't. He doesn’t have to speak, he never has to speak.

But he thinks of every time he’s felt utterly helpless to take Eliott’s pain off of his shoulders, all the times he would have given anything in the world to lift the sorrow from his heart, if only for a minute. 

_I love you, you love me, we care about each other, so we do whatever we can to bear each other’s weight._

So although it takes everything in him to do, he speaks. A quiet mumble that wouldn’t have been audible if Eliott weren’t pressed so close, so intently focused on him, “I thought it was getting better.”

“It was, Lu, it _is._ Did something happen?”

His eyes slip closed as his breath turns shaky again, the bright display flashes behind his eyelids, taunting him, “The scale. It was… I’m still losing weight, Eli, it’s still getting worse.”

“Hey,” Eliott soothes, pulling him close and gingerly lifting Lucas’ hand to kiss the knuckles. He presses their palms together over Lucas’ heart. And despite how empty his chest cavity feels, it’s still beating. His heart is still with him after all. There’s that at least.

“See, you’re still in there, love, you’re still fighting. It feels like you aren’t improving, but _trust me,_ you are. I’ve watched it happen.”

“But it meant nothing. I just ended up right back where I started,” Lucas mumbles, the only thing keeping his hand from falling limply in front of him is Eliott’s own still firmly pressing it to his heart.

“One setback doesn’t define your whole recovery, Lu. Weight fluctuates, appetite fluctuates, bad days happen every now and then, but you’re still moving forward. One step backward doesn’t erase the other 100 steps, it just means you’re human. And you’re still 99 steps better off than before.” A deep breath. His free hand comes up to Lucas’ cheek, he gently swipes at a tear with his thumb, “Listen to me, Lucas. Healing isn’t linear. Nothing real ever is. You’re doing the best that you can. And your best won’t always be the same, but it’s never any less remarkable. I love you and I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. I don’t tell you enough, but it’s always true, _always._ ”

Lucas feels the silent tears that fall as he looks up to meet Eliott’s gaze. How does he always know what to say? The guilt swirls erratically through him, drawing bile and more tears as he finds himself unable to open his mouth, to thank Eliott, to return the love that he’s taken and taken and taken for so many weeks. 

Regardless of Eliott’s words – uttered with soft, complete sincerity – he finds it hard to see himself as anything but a burden. He crumples into Eliott’s chest, hands curling up under his chin as Eliott removes his from his heart to wrap an arm around Lucas’ shoulder. He wishes more than anything for his battery to recharge, wants to be the boyfriend Eliott deserves, but he can’t, he can barely even keep himself from crying anymore. Sometimes he can’t even manage that. Like right now.

“I don’t deserve you,” Lucas chokes out weakly, “I’m just bringing you down.”

Eliott squeezes him tighter, “That couldn’t possibly be further from the truth,” He pulls back slightly to press a gentle kiss to Lucas’ forehead, “I have an idea. You think you can walk with me to the couch?” 

Lucas can’t. He can’t move. And Eliott senses that without needing a verbal response. _You’re too good,_ Lucas thinks as Eliott scoops him up again and carries his small, limp form to the couch, _I love you so much. I don’t have it in me to show you right now and it’s killing me._

Eliott sets him right in the center of the cushions, scurries back to their bedroom and returns with his black hoodie, the one Lucas always steals when he’s at work at the video club. He helps Lucas pull the fabric over his head, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek before going to the kitchen. 

Lucas stares blankly at the floor, subconsciously pulls the sleeves over his hands, curls his knees up and brings the sweater paws to his face. The worn fabric smells like Eliott, that’s why he loves to steal it, and now he begs his mind to take that feeling of peace, of safety, and run with it until he manages to outpace the darkness, leave it behind forever. 

But of course that won’t work. So he waits — waits while he smells burning from the kitchen, while he hears fumbling and cursing that normally would have sent him into a fit of giggles, now only managing to pull a tiny, weak smile to his lips. He waits for Eliott to return with the giant, plush comforter off their bed and a big bowl of popcorn. Eliott covers Lucas with the blanket, puts the bowl in the spot next to him to go put a movie in the dvd player. 

When he shuffles under the comforter next to Lucas, he holds out the popcorn between them, “You don’t have to eat any, but if you want, I’m here. We can do it together.” 

Lucas gives him another small smile. It’s all he can do, but he hopes even the most minuscule bit of his appreciation shows through on his face. He grabs a little handful and slowly eats a few pieces. 

Eliott looks at him warmly and Lucas does his best to reciprocate. When Eliott gets a kernel in his eye from trying to throw it up and catch it in his mouth, Lucas even feels the tiniest giggle rise in his throat. 

He looks at Eliott, at the sunshine smile he flashes when he catches Lucas’ little laugh, and then down to his hands in his lap shyly, picks at a hangnail. _This should be a fun date night,_ he thinks, _I should be teasing you and laughing with you and coming to the kitchen with you so you don’t burn the popcorn._ He can’t help that the tears start to well again. _I wish you didn’t have to deal with me. I wish I wasn’t like this._

“You’re thinking so loud,” Eliott sighs, wraps an arm around Lucas and pulls him in so his head rests on Eliott’s shoulder, “I love you. I love being here with you. You know that right?” 

Lucas settles close as the title screen of the movie appears, “Yeah…” He manages, “I do.” 

_Lux & Obscurus, a film by Eliott Demaury_

Eliott glances down to gauge Lucas’ reaction. He can’t do much, but he needs Eliott to know how much this all means to him. He shuffles a bit to be able to join their lips for a moment. He tucks himself back into Eliott’s arms, mumbles a _thank you_ and focuses his eyes on the screen. 

Lucas loves this film, secretly he thinks he loves it more than Eliott does, and watching the hard work, passion, and love that he poured into it never loses its impact on Lucas. He watches silently, intently, until the final scene begins. He feels Eliott’s hand squeeze tighter on his shoulder. 

He glances up to see Eliott looking at him, eyes watery and smile creased with an emotion Lucas can’t quite name, “I love you, Lucas. More than anything in this world. That’s what this film is about and… and I guess that’s just what I’m trying to show you right now. You saved me. You took me into your arms when I was broken, when I was lost, and you made me feel whole again. I swear with everything in me I won’t let you waste away. As long as I have air in my lungs I won’t let it happen, ok? You will get yourself back, Lu. There will be setbacks, but you will. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. If anyone can get through this it’s you.”

Lucas had thought the speech he had written for the movie had been overwhelming, but Eliott seems to outdo himself in the romance department every single day. 

“I think I should see the doctor.” Lucas whispers, choking a bit around a sob. He’s been terrified of this, he’s still terrified of this, but he needs to do it. He can lean on Eliott forever, and Eliott would let him, but he knows it’s not enough. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Eliott replies, “Do you want me to set up the appointment?” 

Lucas nods weakly. Another tiny _thank you_ escapes his lips as he wraps his arms around Eliott’s middle and lets himself be held. 

“Ok,” Eliott murmurs, “You’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”

After a beat, Eliott tosses another kernel into the air. This time, he catches it in his mouth effortlessly. A smile lights up his whole face then, and Lucas lets it warm him to his core, lets himself find joy in that smile. 

He puts his hand to his own heart again. 

It’s still beating.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading 🥺 
> 
> your daily reminder from mr. demaury that healing isn't linear! if you're having a hard time right now I believe in you and things will be better before you know it 🥺💛💗
> 
> feel free to say hey [on tumblr](https://sunflowerlallemant.tumblr.com)  
> ficpost [here](https://sunflowerlallemant.tumblr.com/post/633243940199563264/not-to-me-not-if-its-you-21k)


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